Franky's Return
by WentworthWriter
Summary: Franky couldn't stay away from Wentworth forever...
1. Chapter 1

It was quarter to seven in the morning and though our pair of hapless lovers - Franky and Bridgette - were going to be late for work, they couldn't help but allow themselves to become consumed with one another. One thing led to the next and eventually clothes were shed, with the pair falling to the floor whilst holding each other close before getting down to business.  
Franky's nipple forced its way into Bridgette's eager mouth, swelling with each suckle the horny lover gave.  
"Wow, you're truly fucking sensational!" Franky screamed before grabbing onto the furry rug Bridgette had left between her thighs. Franky liked her natural. "Just like I always wanted you to do it!" she yelped before feeling Franky's entire fist forced inside her hairy gaping maw.  
"Hey, you up for some roleplay hot stuff?" Bridgette asked, her top lip curling into a smile. "Only if you're going to be Inspector Gidgette!" Franky laughed, unprepared for what was about to come. Bridgette peeled herself away from her girl, before opening the top drawer of the bedside table. Slowly, out came a pair of black gloves; "Time for ME to become The Freak," Bridgette snarled. But Franky wasn't impressed.  
"Get those fucking things OFF!" Franky bellowed, sure the neighbours would hear her distress. Little did she know that everybody had already left to start their day. The passion in Franky's being had been completed drained, but Bridgette was a woman used to dishing out the commands, not taking them. Especially when roleplaying as Miss Ferguson.  
"You don't run this prison, I DO!" growled Bridgette, completely enveloped in her character and on the brink of insanity. Franky didn't know what to do, or where to look, but soon it wouldn't matter. Bridgette grabbed Franky by the back of her hair, wrenching her head back and eventually smashing it against the bed's headboard. Blood gushed from Franky's nose and though she tried to resist, it was no good. It was as if the spirit of Ferguson and her henchman had entered Bridgette and refused to let go. The icy grip of contempt reigned down on Franky once more, and her right eye began to swell.  
With a sudden instinct, Franky remembered the one thing that could save her from further assault. She kept a huge vibrator under the mattress, 11 inches long and heavy containing eight batteries. Weighty and useful, she though, quickly grabbing the device. She managed to wiggle out of Bridgette's grip, and quickly smacked her over the head, knocking her out cold before giving in to the darkness herself...

...When Franky woke up, she was confused to find her hands cuffed together and a blindfold over her eyes. She may have escaped Bridgette for mere moments, but now she was back in her grasps, and the roleplay was going to continue. But then as her eyesight began to find focus, she realised she wasn't in her bedroom anymore. The cuffs on her wrists were binding her down, sure, but to a wheelchair. She was being wheeled past grey upon grey walls, and before too long she recognised the teal uniforms the women in front of her were wearing.  
"Welcome back," said Will Jackson. She was back at Wentworth Correctional Facility.


	2. Chapter 2

She had passed out again soon after Will had welcomed her back. He was Deputy Governor now that The Freak had been taken into custody, with good old Vera 'Vinegar Tits' finally making the progression she had always so desired for her career, straight into the Governor role after years of being the underdog. Will wasn't a mean man despite all he knew about Franky. When she had slipped back into the darkness, he wheeled her into a cell and got one of the other women - Liz Birdsworth - to help her get some rest, tucking her in before he left.

Franky woke up but was too afraid to open her eyes. Surely it had all been a dream. Surely she wasn't back in Wentworth Prison so soon after her release. Unfortunately for her, the scenes swirling round in her mind had taken place, and when she felt brave enough to allow her eyes to slip open just a fraction, she saw those cold and familiar four walls. Franky sobbed.

Bridgette was the one woman Franky had ever trusted explicitly. She had put her entire newfound freedom and life on hold to try and satisfy her, hoping that it would end up in a lifelong union of trust, love and rampant, hot sex. She had thought all that was on the cards. She even saw a kid or two in her future. What sort of mother would she have been? But Bridgette had betrayed her.

Soon after being knocked out in the bedroom, Bridgette had come around to find her lover passed out on the bed. A huge gash on the right side of her temple was bleeding profusely, so Bridgette called an ambulance. Putting down the mobile phone she had used, she quickly dialled the emergency line once more.

"Police, please," she mumbled down the line. She could not remember a single thing about what had happened. The knock to her head had completely wiped all memory of the last 48 hours. All she knew was that she was laid out cold because Franky had struck her with something weighty enough to draw blood. Franky was bleeding, too. Was Bridgette responsible? Had she had to defend herself in such a way she had to hit Franky? She would never have initiated the violence in her own mind - her new mind - so Bridgette's only explanation was that she was a victim of a sadistic domestic violence attack. She didn't want Franky to go back to Wentworth, but she had no choice. She couldn't live with somebody so volatile.

Meanwhile, out in the outskirts of Melbourne, prisoner Joan Ferguson was preparing to be transferred to her new home. Wentworth Correctional Facility. She had a plan that would change the lives of all those who worked or were kept prisoner there forever. She was ready to put that plan into motion as soon as she stepped through the doorway. Her visions had left her now. Her mind was clear. Revenge was on the agenda…


End file.
